Uncle Ben's Blog

So after several months of careful scrutiny, never-ending media coverage and now (hopefully) the light at the end of the proverbial tunnel, I can with full confidence give the final word on what has become the fucking silliest, #FirstWorldProblem scandal in the history of sport. I refuse to automatically associate any modern scandal with the Watergate Break-in and slap “gate” on the end of any word, so I’ll refer to this scandal as “Much Ado About Bullshit”. There. I feel better associating with Shakespeare than Tricky Dick, Gordo and the boys. If you haven’t guessed by now, I am referring to the Tom Brady deflation of balls mess. Look, I don’t want to get off o a rant here but what’s the big fucking deal, bitch? So he asked some fucking drunk Southie to take a few PSIs out of some footballs. I equate that to watering down the base-paths to give your bunts a chance to stay fair. Growing the grass long on your home field so your fatsos have a chance to catch the less than fatsos on the other team. Stealing signals from second from the catcher. Stealing signals from the other sideline in football. If we are supposed to be living in this pristine, gentlemanly world, why do we have such complicated signs everywhere? Why are playbooks in the NFL guarded like Lee Harvey Oswald coming out of the Dallas jail? Wait, that’s a bad example. Ol’ Patsy McSureshot didn’t fair too well that day. I hope I never have to experience it but I’d take the JFK haircut long before I take a bullet in the gut, taking 2 hours to die. And did Oswald act alone? Some theories point to----- wait, shit, almost went down a rabbit hole. Where was I? Oh yeah. The dude got over and he most likely would’ve gotten over without the help of an underinflated football. Jesus. Is that really what we are talking about here? A fucking football that was 2 psi lower than standard? We let QBs wear sticky gloves on their throwing hand. That’s not performance enhancing? Every QB in the history of this shitty league has done this. So Brady got caught. Big deal. Some like ‘em flat, some like ‘em big and round. Last I checked the fucking defense didn’t play with flat balls. The other team still had an opportunity to score, right? And stop with the whole guilty by association because he didn’t turn over his phone. This guy fucks models. Is married to a model. Had a kid with a different model and makes 25 million a year. I make not close to half a percent of that and you’ll get my phone out of my cold, dead hands. Who knows what secret, illuminati model-fucker launch codes this dude has on his phone. Not to mention naughty selfies, am I right ladies? So stop with your hypocritical dissection of the Golden Boy. We have a serious hero-worship problem in this country yet our love of wanting someone to fall from grace may be worse. So save your vitriol and your passion for where it belongs: In your own life. Maybe if you gave a shit about your own goings on, you’d be a millionaire model-fucker with a naughty phone and then someone could take you down a peg or two. Or maybe he’s a fucking cheater, who really gives a shit. But I digress…